Anti-Skill's Most Wanted
by SecondLieutenant
Summary: Sequel to Threshold Fever. Hiding her new powers was not something Kuroko found difficult to do, but a new revelation regarding the one she holds dearest sparks a tiresome chapter of unrest. With the bitter, ugly truth revealed, Kuroko now must choose between the two things that mean the most to her in the world, and the river only continues to rise.
1. Chapter 1

**Anti-Skill's Most Wanted**

* * *

Kuroko's life had become unsavorily more... _deceitful_ lately. Granted, she was no stranger to being _deceitful_ ; she _was_ the one who innocently feigned innocence after not-so-innocently making not-so-innocent advances on her dearly beloved Misaka after all. But this type of deceitfulness... It was an alien breed to her. Frightening, almost, for it was a breed with consequences. Consequences with which she had never dealt. She never wanted to deal with those kinds of consequences. They made her, someone with a will of iron, timid.

Tomorrow, she was to engage with that sort of deceitfulness, but, for the moment, she wished to see _just_ how deceitful she was soon to be. Needless to say, quantifying her deceitfulness did not lessen her uneasiness toward the ordeal. Despite however she felt, she was obligated to stand her ground.

She sat in class, bored out of her dear mind. In the meantime, her fingers mindlessly fidgeted with her yellow pencil. The utensil flipped, twirled, and spiraled, but the show wasn't interesting enough to garner any attention; not a soul, classmate or teacher, paid her any mind. She was not disappointed. If anything, it was exactly what she wanted, for it gave her plenty of peace to focus.

The pencil... She could teleport it anywhere, couldn't she? Anywhere, so long as the destination matched up with the coordinates in her head. Frighteningly impressive, given she had time to concentrate. Certainly more impressive than the measly eighty-one point five meters she could teleport objects before the... _incident..._ she and Misaka refused to talk about, especially with other people.

Speaking of Misaka...

The ground quaked suddenly. The force was powerful enough to rattle the entire building. The lights above the class' heads flickered, but everyone was far more fixated on looking out the window to notice. A tidal wave in the school's swimming pool was dying by the time Kuroko got the chance to look as well. The sight put a quaint smile on her face, especially when the wave began to clear. Standing at the edge of the poolside, balancing on the diving board, she could barely make out the form of her sweet Misaka, strings of blue caressing her body. As though it were raining, water poured down on her, wetting her hair, skin, and clothes.

"That Misaka Mikoto, always scaring us when the System Scans roll around..." muttered the teacher at the head of the classroom. She cleared her throat to regain the class' attention. Almost all the students returned to the blackboard, save for one. That one was busy making the pencil in her hand disappear.

Later that day, while on a typical patrol (which doubled as a friendly walk with her one and only idol), Kuroko skipped up to Misaka's side. The latter had just finished giving the usual vending machine a good roundhouse kick, and when it finally spit out a soda, Kuroko knew it was safe to move in. Her sneaky little hand, experienced from more... _devious_ missions... slipped into the pocket of Misaka's skirt while she bent over to retrieve her drink. However, Kuroko's experienced hand was not quite experienced enough; Misaka shot her a deathly glare barely a second after she felt the intrusion. With a single hand, she cracked open her soda can. The sharp noise was a noise Kuroko found foreboding, so she distanced herself slightly, though refusing to allow her palm to flee from Misaka's clothes.

"What're you doing?" Misaka asked gruffly, taking the first sip. After tirelessly searching through the pocket, Kuroko's fingers finally found what they sought: a yellow pencil, which she pulled out and earnestly presented to her pitiless judge. The judge's brow only raised, and she maintained a frown, a hint of confusion gathering in her dark pupils. "Hm. Must be one of your pencils. It sure isn't mine; I hate those junky wooden ones."

Kuroko nodded.

"I teleported it into your pocket a while ago."

"When was that?"

"Right after you fired your first Railgun during your examination."

"Were you in class?"

"Uh-huh."

She saw Misaka smile slightly, but it was not entirely a happy smile, nor was it entirely a sad smile. She took an abnormally long drink after receiving the news.

"I was pretty far away from your building... You're definitely getting the hang of things." Kuroko did not have to ask what those "things" were. "The System Scan for your age group's tomorrow, isn't it?" Misaka continued down the street, not checking to see if she had a follower (she didn't have to). Kuroko, like the loyal shadow she was, prepared to run after her, but she caught her Judgement sash fleeing from her sleeve. While recovering it, she blamed the mishap on the bobby-pin.

"That's the reason I sent that pencil to your pocket today. I wanted to do the _real_ test for myself."

"Except participants aren't allowed to evaluate themselves," Misaka started. At first, the harshness of her tone made Kuroko's heart sink. Of course, that was before she spotted the playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lip. "Want me to do the honors?"

" _My_ Sissy? Evaluate _me?_ _"_ Kuroko began to redden as she pranced nearer. Too near, actually; Misaka gently elbowed her out of her personal space. Kuroko was so used to it she hardly noticed. "What would you say, Sissy?"

Misaka rewarded her with a thumbs-up.

"That much accuracy at that long of a distance? I'd say that makes for a bonafide Level Five, Miss Shirai. Congratulations."

It was nice to only hear that from Misaka.

The next day, that was, thankfully, not what she heard. It wasn't what she expected to hear anyway; she played the entire faculty like a fiddle.

Pretending to try her hardest, Kuroko sent the weight in her hands to a target painted on the ground, where it appeared just shy of the center. Coaches scrambled to measure what little distance was between the weight and the bullseye before scribbling the results on their clipboards and clearing the circle. At her side, another coach crossed his arms and nodded confidently.

"Looking better, Miss Shirai. You've improved a little since last time."

Proudly brushing aside a ponytail, she turned to the coach.

"I've been practicing pretty hard lately. I think I want to be Academy City's eighth Level Five, that way I'll be just like my Sissy."

The man chuckled slightly.

"Your 'Sissy', eh? Ha! I didn't know your sister was a Level Five."

Kuroko's smile dropped.

"N-No. I mean Mikoto Misaka."

"Mikoto Misaka's your sister?"

"No! Anything but that!" The mere thought of Misaka being her blood relative made her want to die. If Misaka were her sister, they couldn't get married! The horror! The tragedy! The heartache! The...

That wasn't what was important.

A stiff woman sat at the desk in front of her, gazing at her coldly. Her professional demeanor made Kuroko shrink in her presence, especially as she slapped a clipboard on the table. If she'd slapped it down any harder, the board probably would've shattered, and then a shard would've probably struck one of her eyes... a mere taste of her aura's maliciousness. Part of Kuroko feigned nervousness for her little act, but another part legitimately felt nervous.

The woman cleared her throat.

"You gave a disappointing performance today, Miss Shirai. The results indicate you underperformed by three point five six percent compared to last semester's System Scan." She fixed her glasses. They now sat at the perfect angle that would not allow Kuroko to see her harsh gaze. "Here at Tokiwadai, a margin that large is simply unacceptable."

Though it was probably a mistake to do so, Kuroko opened her mouth.

"But... The coach told me I-"

"It doesn't matter what the coach told you. _This_ is what the _numbers_ tell _me._ "

"W-Well... Let me explain..." Kuroko continued, anxiously taking a ponytail in her hand and absentmindedly toying with it.

"It's best you do."

"See, last night I got in a pretty big argument with my... um... _significant other._ I'm still pretty upset about it, so I had a hard time concentrating out there today..."

The woman hardly looked like she bought the story. It was that very moment that made Kuroko realize she to up her game.

"Quite the curious story. I have no clue how you manage to maintain a relationship with someone while you attend an elite all-girls school. Do you see him on the weekends when you're supposed to be studying?"

"She's also a student here."

A brow raised.

"Ah, isn't that nice... And this argument? What was it about?"

"Social politics."

"Social politics."

 _"_ _Social politics._ _"_

She barely got off the hook.

Well, she was pretty sure she got let off the hook. Her little secret, as far as she could tell, was safe and sound, completely out of the question.

Then she got to work.

Like most days, Kuroko shoved the door the the office open, allowing herself inside. She was pretty relaxed. There was no reason not to be relaxed. At least, not until she looked forward.

"I'm he-" She choked on her saliva before she could finish, for, just a ways away from her, a tall, long-haired woman stood in the office, arms crossed while she monitored an underling pushing a cart of boxes around the room. Both mystery women wore an identical black and navy blue uniform, an emblem printed across their bullet-proof jackets. That emblem was what gave Kuroko the mini-heart attack in the first place: Anti-Skill.

After turning to her, the taller woman gave her a quick nod, then took a few steps closer.

"'Afternoon. Not too good with surprises?" she inquired. Her tone was friendly enough, but, with everything that had been going on recently, Kuroko remained on guard. She attempted to make her uneasiness as unreadable as she could.

"Just a little alarmed..." Kuroko weaved around her, making her way deeper into the office. Uiharu was there, typing away at her many monitors, and Konori stood in the corner, stirring something into her steaming cup of tea. Everything seemed calm thus far, but that was before she turned to the new pair of gigantic piles of boxes that took up more space in their already cluttered office. The second, shorter Anti-Skill officer had just finished sliding the final box off the cart. Kuroko's brows dropped at the sight. "Um... Everything okay here?"

"Just waiting for you to show up," Konori sounded after taking a sip of her drink. The steam fogged up her glasses for a moment, and when they returned to normal, her eyes went to the tall woman making her way back into the office. "Did the two of you want something to drink? I just brewed a pot of tea."

With a wide grin, the shorter officer whipped around.

"Tea? Can I have some? It smells great!"

"Tessou! No teatime on the clock!" barked her coworker.

"Y-Yes ma'am..."

"Anyway..." The woman's arms crossed again. "Is everyone here now?" When she received a nod, one of her brows anchored, especially after redoing a quick inventory. "Yikes. This branch is smaller than I thought..."

"We do have a fourth member, but she's the ghost member. I hardly remember the last time she worked a full day here," Uiharu commented while disengaging herself from her monitors. She rolled her swivel chair away from her desk, facing their visitor intently.

The more the conversation deepened, the more Kuroko calmed; she could conclude the officers weren't for her, thank goodness, so she had all the energy she needed to focus on what was currently at hand. After her coworker reported to her side, the tall woman cleared her throat and put on a professional demeanor.

"Alright everyone, I'm Lieutenant Aiho Yomikawa of Anti-Skill Branch Seventy-Three. This is my junior, Tsuzuri Tessou. It's a pleasure to meet the three of you."

After setting down her tea, Konori dipped her head slightly, hands stiffly at her sides.

"Mii Konori. Chief of Judgment Branch One Hundred Seventy-Seven, Level Three esper." She nodded to Uiharu, who, once realizing she had attention, smiled and waved as though there were a camera. "Kazari Uiharu, our resident computer geek. Level One esper."

"Computer geek? At least give me a little more credit than that..."

Konori cleared her throat.

"And Kuroko Shirai, our field officer. Level Four esper."

Yomikawa nodded contently, hands sliding down to her hips.

"A fine group, but now that we're all introduced, let's finally get down to business. I'm sure at least one of you's heard of the facility epidemic that's been going on since last year... right?" Her audience nodded. "Good, means I don't have to explain myself too much. My branch is mainly in charge of tracking all this havoc. We've come to a conclusion after noticing familiar patterns at all the crime scenes: every single one of these incidences are related, likely committed by the same offender... or _offenders._ Our culprit is either a very strong esper or a coordinated team, professionals either way." She approached one of the two piles of boxes, the right one she pat roughly with her hand. "These boxes contain all the field reports from last year. The offenders entered a dormant state around six months ago, but activity just recently started back up again. Same time of night. Same type of target. Same type of fire. Something must've triggered them out of inactivity, and _boy_ are they back with a vengeance. This is where you come in: plain and simple, with how frequently attacks're happening, my branch is overwhelmed with work. We need to lease some of the paperwork out to one of the Judgment branches to make sure we can keep our focus where it's needed."

As Kuroko's brows thoughtfully furrowed, Yomikawa finally eyed toward her, observing her top to bottom.

"Shirai, was it? That a Tokiwadai uniform you got on? This case must be personal."

Quickly, Kuroko nodded back.

"What's happened to those facilities recently happened to my dorm. If that was this group's doing too, I don't see why they would attack a school after targeting nothing but research facilities... unless they're trying to muddle their m.o. and confuse us. If they're blowing up research facilities, they must have a political agenda, and if we figure out they have a political agenda, that makes us one step closer to finding out who they are and stopping them."

The woman smirked confidently.

"Heh. I like the way you think, kid. Since you got a bit of an edge here, I'll put you in charge of making sure all the crime scenes're properly documented. If that's fine with your chief, of course..." She eyed Konori, whose head bobbed.

By furrowing her brows, Kuroko displayed a determined expression.

"Easy. I'll make sure to take care of everything so we can nail these guys."

"Attagirl." She gave her a hefty pat on the shoulder. "I knew we came to the right place. Told you we didn't need to go to Branch One Eighteen, Tessou."

"S-Sorry, ma'am... Even numbers're just more appealing sometimes, don't you think?"

"Yeah... _no._ We'll discuss this later." The woman faintly shook her head. "If you're not busy, Shirai, there's been an investigation on the eightieth block for a few weeks now. If you can, it'd be best for you to head there today and get started. The guys there'll tell you what we need done."

For an investigation to span a few weeks, the site must be frightfully large. Unfortunately, that was a correct assumption to make.

Armed with a digital tablet and some needles strapped to her thighs, Kuroko arrived at the eightieth block. She struggled not to twist her ankle, for she landed on a mountain of uneven rubble. Like the night, the pile was black, charred beyond recognition. Moments after she took everything in, she breathed in deeply, held it, and released when her throat began to burn. She'd seen devastation depicted in films, but witnessing devastation first hand was far more chilling.

She, along with other Anti-Skill investigators, carefully traversed various piles, cautious not to disturb the scene. A few officers, having recognized her green arm band, gave her a nod and a wave as she passed. She returned the notion subtly, focused far more on finding where she was even supposed to start her work.

Before she took her notes, Kuroko trotted up to a trio of officers, who seemed to have trouble moving a large heap of ruined machinery. After checking her surroundings, she instructed them to move away, then pressed her hand across the object's side. It disappeared, but it reappeared a handful of meters away. As if she were some kind of hero, the trio gave her wide grins and a thumbs up.

"Wow, a teleporter. Haven't seen many of those," a voice sounded behind her. She was caught off guard, but only for a moment; when she turned around, she met the voice face-to-face. What she found, however, was not too out of the ordinary: it was a man, middle-aged, but still quite healthy, for he stood stoutly with a confident face. "Kuroko Shirai? Yomikawa told me you were on your way. I was starting to wonder how you got here so fast... Looks like my questions have been answered now." He dipped his head only a little. "Name's Tachibana, Captain of Anti-Skill's Branch Seventy-Three. Glad to be working with you."

Out of respect, Kuroko dipped her head much lower.

"Pleasure to be working with you too," she replied, eyes sauntering off to the side. Again, they were captured by the flawless wreckage of what was once a complex, powerful building. "I can see why you guys needed help now..."

"No kidding. And this scene's considered old. We're running way behind. Almost gotten to the point where I can hardly sleep at night." Tachibana smiled slightly while turning back to her. "Judgment may be mostly full of kids, but it's still a big relief to get you lot involved too. Here, follow me and I'll show you how everything needs to be done."

Like Tachibana requested, Kuroko spent the rest of the day in his company, observing and marveling at the remains. There had to be at least thirty or so officers on the scene; Kuroko started counting, but she gave up when she realized there were just too many. Most didn't seem to be slacking either... That meant she was in for plenty of work.

"How many bodies've been found, Mr. Tachibana?" Kuroko inquired, ducking under a ruined archway. In response to her question, Tachibana's eyes widened.

"Zero. Can you believe it? These officers've been out here for nearly two weeks. Not a single body. Unless they're all buried deep underneath all this rubble, it's starting to look like nobody got seriously hurt from the explosion. That's been a trend in our perp's m.o.: they attack at night when nobody's around to see 'em _or_ get hurt. I like to call them the _'_ _Humaniterrorists_ _'_. Pitched the nickname to the press once. I wanted to see that term everywhere; news, newspaper, billboards, pamphlets, wanted posters..."

Kuroko looked up from her tablet.

"And...?"

"Yeah... They didn't take it. "

"That's too bad. It has a nice ring to it." She paused, eyes growing glassy from thought. "But it certainly tells us a lot about our culprits, though. If they were planning to destroy the entire building, it wouldn't matter if someone in the building saw them; they'd be dead before they could report any suspicious activity to the authorities. They're definitely trying to minimize collateral damage, which is an awful lot of empathy coming from a gang of terrorists... This group must have plenty of women, or at least a woman's the one calling all the shots."

Tachibana spit on the ground.

"Come on, us guys have hearts too, you know."

"Th-That wasn't what I was trying to say! I was just using a little criminal psy-"

"Oh, Miss Shirai, you can take a joke can't you? Come on, let me take you to meet Ueno."

Kuroko expected Ueno to be another Anti-Skill leader like Tachibana, but all she found was a pudgy woman sitting in the ashes. She did not wear any sort of uniform, normal clothes instead. Kuroko observed her harshly at first, but that was before she realized the woman busied herself with carefully brushing aside ash, as if in search of something. Shortly after Kuroko and Tachibana arrived, the woman carefully pulled a long string out of the blackened ground. Some of the delicate string crumbled between her fingers.

"Is that copper?" Kuroko asked, kneeling for a closer look. It certainly looked like copper; where it was not black, it bore a familiar, lustrous brown hue.

" _Was_ copper. Same as usual. Electrical fire. Circuit got overwhelmed."

"I... thought we already determined this was done by the same perpetrators..." Kuroko sounded, slowly rising back to her feet. She brushed off her shins, which had begun to suffer from chalky ash.

"We keep Ueno around to make sure our records're accurate. You know what they say: assuming makes an ass out of you _and_ me."

A thumb ran across Kuroko's chin as she studied the ruined copper wiring more. Her teeth grazed over her bottom lips anxiously. When she began biting too hard on her lips, she bit on her thumb instead.

"So they overwhelmed the circuit to make it combust... Would that mean this is the work of an Electromaster?"

"Best guess we got. We thought about getting a warrant to interrogate everyone with electric esper abilities, but they're a dime a dozen in this city. It'd take forever to sift through them all thoroughly."

"Never told me that," Ueno spoke up as she also stood. She dusted off her pants before clearing her throat. "If I'd known, I would've said a little more." Kuroko took her words as a cue to whip out her tablet again, prepared to scribble valuable notes. "The amount of voltage needed to overwhelm a circuit that covers a building _this_ large would be tremendous. We're not dealing with some pansy Level Two or Three espers. This is the work of someone that's probably a Level 4. Hell, I wouldn't even put it past that darling from Tokiwadai. All those Level Fives're crazy..."

* * *

Misaka was crazy.

Loafing on her bed on the opposite side of the room, Misaka shook her head insistently, making Kuroko's brow raise.

"Yeah, I don't think it's a good idea to get caught up in this case, Kuroko," she muttered. Her tone was pronounced, but not harsh. Forgiving, but not gentle. Kuroko stared at her, utterly speechless, from her own bed.

"Um... What?"

"That's just my opinion. You said you pinned the dorm fire on these... eh... _Humaniterrorists_ , right?"

"Yeah."

"Those Anti-Skill officers are smarter than you think, you know. If you hang out with them for too long, they'll start to connect us to the dorm. We were absent from the campus before the fire started, I'd gotten shot in the leg, I'm an Electromaster, the entire administration considers us partners in crime... Pretty suspicious. That suspicion will probably start with you, since you're part of the investigation _and_ a student from Tokiwadai, and then they'll eventually lasso me in too. The moment that happens, it's downhill from there. Once they find out I'm the one who blew up the dorm, then they're gonna start suspecting me to be the Humaniterrorist. The way I destroyed the dorm is the exact same way those research facilities were destroyed, so it'd pretty much be two plus two for them."

Kuroko gazed at Misaka, her idol. Oh, how she loved that girl. It pained her to part her lips again, prepared to ask an ugly question.

"But... That's not the case... is it? You have nothing to do with the facilities, right?"

She and Misaka locked eyes. It was quiet. As if Misaka hesitated thoroughly. The silence, the lack of an immediate response, was more than a push toward an answer Kuroko did not like, but jumping to conclusions seemed foolish... especially in the midst of such a serious matter. She didn't want to be lied to. No more lies. No more secrets. "Please be honest with me..."

Before Kuroko could start to become truly worried, Misaka broke out a huge grin, and she snickered profusely.

"Of course not, Kuroko. The most damage I've done is to the dorm... and it wasn't because I wanted to. It was all out of necessity."

"Then how did you know both fires were from an overwhelmed circuit?"

"An overwhelmed wha?"

"An electrical fire, Sissy," Kuroko's brows furrowed. "Everything I just told you was public information. That _wasn_ _'_ _t_ public; the press hasn't heard a peep about how the facility fires started." When she saw the way Misaka reddened, a bubble of heat swelled in her gut. Her stomach churned. "Are you lying to me?" Misaka shook her head. Kuroko didn't buy it. "Then how did you know?"

Misaka's back hit her bed, and she sprawled out over her comforter until she was content... except she never felt content. Or comfortable. She kept tossing and turning around... stalling for time. Kuroko was not stupid.

"Alright, you got me. Guess I gotta fess up," she admitted after finally settling. She turned slightly to her neighbor. "I have this... let's call it a _hobby._ I like to use my PDA to... um... do a little investigating in some of the big cases going on right now. Learn all the names, the suspects, the crimes... It's kinda intriguing. Sorta like watching a mystery movie, except everything's real."

"So you're using a private device to illegally access Anti-Skill's database," was how Kuroko redefined it. Her words made Misaka squirm a little, brows shifting up and down.

"You make it sound malicious when you put it that way."

She watched as Kuroko swung her legs over the side of her bed. Unlike the bed at their old dorm, which was now a pile of ashes across the campus, it was short enough for her to set her feet on the floor. She drew circular patterns on that floor as she thought. She thought for quite a while, refusing to even look at Misaka. A long, long while. Judging by the look on Misaka's face, she anticipated another question... a more _accusatory_ question.

"I'm going to go take a shower now," was the most that came from Kuroko's mouth, however, leaving Misaka perplexed. The somber tone of her junior made her sit up, watching as she made her way to the washroom. Just before she shut the door, Misaka decided to speak up.

"Hey." Her words made Kuroko stop shutting the door. When she peeked between it and the doorframe, Misaka knew she had her attention. "I haven't been sleeping all that well lately... so... um... you're welcome to keep me company... if you want..."

Kuroko only narrowed her eyes.

"Yes, Sissy. I _am_ a bit weary of you right now."

"Figured. Just wanted to make sure."

Without a word more, the two simply exchanged stares for a while longer, and Kuroko gently pulled the door shut.

By the time she was finished showering, Misaka appeared to have already fallen asleep. The lights in their room were turned off, and her body remained motionless on her bed. Kuroko intended to check on her like usual, but an unfamiliar room made it easy for her toe to find the leg of a coffee table. She did not want to howl, as it would awaken her roommate, but she could not stay silent either. As a compromise, she sounded with a hiss and hopped around until she felt better.

After stumbling around a little more in their new room, Kuroko arrived at her desk, where she pried open her laptop. For the next hour or so, she engrossed herself in work, typing away at a fresh document and constantly referring to her tablet. When her eyes grew dreary, she woke herself back up by quickly shaking her head and blinking as many times as she could. Once back awake, she continued her work.

She planned to finish the document in one night, but, about two hours in, when she was the most focused, her ears captured a noise. A strange noise. A mewl, steady and distressed, rose from Misaka's side of the room, and it immediately had Kuroko's full attention. Torn from her work, she turned her chair around, and she silently observed the scene. Thanks to the glow of the computer screen, she could barely see her dear, who fidgeted and wrestled with the blankets. Her chest, as though she were running, rose and fell quickly, each gulp of air audible. The more Kuroko watched, the less she could sit still.

Looks like she was done for the night.

With the computer shut down, Kuroko returned the room to darkness, into which she swam when she rose from the desk chair. A little more experienced, she successfully made her way across the room without stubbing her feet on anything. There, she stood patiently, listening as her dear continued to pant. The more she listened, the redder her face grew. Gently, her hand glided toward a forehead, which she lightly stroked. As expected, the forehead was soaked, bangs sticking to one another.

"Guess you weren't lying about _that,_ _"_ she muttered softly. "Feels like we've switched places, doesn't it?" One of her legs, as if it had a mind of its own, proceeded to take her aboard the bed, where she climbed over Misaka and plopped down between the wall and her love. It took a while to get comfy; Misaka's old bed, the one that was also reduced to ashes, was older than this one. It was broken into and cozy, and it had just the most calming scent. But this new one... It was stiff and rigid, unwilling to offer any hospitality. It was as if it insisted they did not belong there.

She thought she'd never find comfort on that bed, but that was before Misaka rolled over, lying face-to-face with her intruder. Kuroko did not know if she had awoken and attempted to see who was with her.

"Sissy...?" she whispered. "Are you okay?"

Misaka grunted. Even Kuroko could not decipher what the noise meant, so she was left to wonder, especially after she then began to murmur various gibberish.

"The Fujinami tower... sheeps with a... telling me to lose if I... No... Come back here..." The muttering continued. Her every word was weak, as if she hardly invested any air into them. If the room had not been quiet, it would have been nearly impossible to hear her.

But then, in a moment's worth, her words became sharp. Stout.

"Kuroko." The listener's heart burned, but she remained silent. She was sleep talking... It wasn't as if Misaka expected a response. Or did she? She spoke again. "Kuroko." One of her palms reached out, as if seeking something very important to her. First, her hand waved around in the air, but when she lowered it, it landed on Kuroko's face. It was what she wanted, for her fingers intently began to explore the ridges of her cheeks, nose, and mouth. As slowly as she could, Kuroko took that hand with both of hers, and she held it still against her.

"Yes...?"

On a dime, the distressed panting subsided. There was a sigh of relief. A gentle sigh. She'd come to love that noise. It made her want to hang on to her hand forever, massaging it tenderly.

"What would you do if..." Her voice dropped off into another tired sigh.

"If what?"

"If I _was_ the one who'd been destroying all those facilities?"

Kuroko stopped rubbing the hand. She stared, mortified. She no longer felt the right to hold onto Misaka so dearly, so she released the palm to its own vices. It remained where it was on her cheek, unmoving. It was notably stiffer.

"I'd..." she started, "have no choice but to arrest you."

"Kuroko... Please... I don't want to be alone again."

Kuroko didn't know it at the time, but that was only the beginning.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hello again, everyone. Welcome to the sequel I said I would do! However, before we get all excited (if you're excited at all), I do have a few things that need to be addressed.**

 **1\. This story's summary is more than likely to be changed in the future. I believe the current summary is pitiful, but it at least manages to get the point across.**

 **2\. As of now, this work is currently on my back burner. That means it is not my top priority... But it is the penultimate on my priority list. I have published this first chapter in hopes of building up an audience before I proceed on this project full throttle.**

 **I hope you enjoyed what I have to offer so far, and be sure to stay tuned for updates in the future!**


	2. Chapter 2

Another day, another pile of rubble.

Kuroko arrived at the site just a few minutes after school let out, and the scene brought little pleasure to her face. Hardened caramel eyes surveyed the wreckage, which eventually coaxed out a sigh.

To best describe the sight, one would only need to employ a single word: a mess. A mess indeed, for an ominous cloud of ash shrouded the area and granted the sun little room to peek through. Neither was it shy, as the ash eagerly attached itself to whatever was nearby, such as a passing car, the neighboring towers, or the very investigators it had swallowed whole. Hours would pass before the air began to thin again, but that still left the city with a mountain of chunky ash to sweep up.

A little while after Kuroko began taking photographic records with her tablet, crunchy footsteps caught her attention. Approaching her was none other than Tachibana, the man with whom she'd become acquainted far too quickly. He fixed the helmet atop his head as he drew closer.

"Hasn't been too long, Miss Shirai," he greeted casually.

With yet another huff, Kuroko nodded. However, taking a deep breath only got ashes in her lungs, so she ended up coughing a storm before she could reply.

"Sure... hasn't," she wheezed during her fit. Tachibana watched until she calmed down, clearing her throat countless times. Promptly returning to her tablet followed. "Give me the rundown."

"This is Academy City's newest darling; another pile of ash to add to her collection..." he explained, his tone barren of shock. "Just got confirmation from Ueno: the Humaniterrorist has struck again."

"Isn't that peachy..." Kuroko muttered while quickly jotting everything down. "How old would you say this mess is?" she continued after seeing some smoke rise from the ground. She motioned to the sight. "It certainly doesn't look _too_ old..."

"Damn right. The explosion went off approximately twenty-three eleven last night, which makes it little over half-a-day old. We still got plenty of smoldering pockets here and there, so watch your step."

Kuroko glanced down at her shoes, whose soles were made of simple rubber. They were a good tool against Misaka's furious shocks, but useless against fire; they'd melt in seconds if she stepped on the wrong spot at the wrong time. Tachibana's advice was sound.

"Last night..." she echoed hesitantly. Coincidentally (or perhaps not), Misaka happened to have some "errands" to run the night before. She didn't come back home until early in the morning, and the entire time she was gone, Kuroko failed to catch even a lick of sleep.

The connection worsened her already uneasy mood.

Except... Something seemed slightly off. Off enough to distract Kuroko from a moment of heartbreak. When she looked up, she found that the site was surrounded by tall, powerful buildings, all benevolently glaring down at them. Looking for too long made her dizzy, so she shook her head and returned her eyes to the ground.

"Strange. Most research facilities have their own private lot, so this couldn't have been one."

"It was a bank headquarters, actually. One for a company called 'Consumer First' or something. As far as I know, they were just a normal bank. No funny business practices... I think. It was a bank after all, so I wouldn't be surprised if there was at least _something_ fishy going on."

Kuroko's thumb stroked her chin hesitantly, her dark eyes growing all the wearier.

"So she's changing her m.o..." she muttered.

"Oh? What's that? _'She'?_ Are we pretty sure the Humaniterrorist is a girl, Miss Shirai?"

When Kuroko's heart caught fire, so did her face. Palms weak and sweating, she turned to the man and quickly shook her head.

"I-I mean... I'm just assuming at this point. You know, after everything I said a few days ago... It sounds like a fairly reasonable assumption if you ask me."

"Oh yeah, since us guys're just heartless monsters. I remember now," he chuckled.

"Quit putting words in my mouth!"

When she and Tachibana parted ways, intending to do their own independent work, Kuroko took to wandering around the site aimlessly. For the most part, she snapped more photographs of various sights that seemed worth the trouble. In the meantime, she logged their coordinates and took additional notes.

Once, the job was interesting, refreshing, and new, but the moment tedious monotony set in, boredom set in as well. She had to practically force herself to document something that did not capture her interest, and she continued to wander out of a lust for something truly worthy of attention- a piece of evidence that would bring them leagues closer to their culprit.

That was precisely what she wanted... until she found it.

When she looked down after a while, she found her shoes caked in ash and soot. It came as no surprise to her, but it was a displeasing sight nonetheless. Kuroko scowled and knelt over, where she gently brushed off the blanket covering her toes.

"Looks like I get to wash these when I get back home," she grumbled. "Again..." When she brushed off her shoes a second time, however, she was in for a surprise: the tip of her finger barely whisked away a neighboring pile of ash, revealing what was buried underneath.

Kuroko did not immediately know what it was she had found, but she did the second she dug it out.

The object was plastic, burnt in multiple places. Barely as long as her finger, it was colored mostly green. It was molded to the shape of a certain, and familiar, reptilian character, a wide smile stretched across his lips.

Gekota.

To be more specific, a phone charm.

Kuroko recognized it. After all, it was a piece of the one she knew better than the back of her hand. She stared at it for ages, it seemed, dazed and lost.

As she slowly stood back up, the girl quickly checked her surroundings.

There were no officers for a good way.

She was out of sight.

Out of mind.

Hidden.

Alone.

She could not help but allow her eyes to wander back to the charm.

Like earlier, her hands began to quiver. Her heart pounded restlessly in her chest.

 _Unlike_ earlier, those feelings did not subside.

Instead, they worsened.

It got to the point where she had to clench her fists together, for her hands lost feeling.

Bitter tears welled in her eyes, but she stubbornly wiped them away, gritting her teeth angrily.

"So, Sissy," she hissed between her teeth. "Now that I've found this, what do you want me to do? Stupid girl." She cooled for only a moment. That was before the fire returned with a vengeance. "Stupid, stupid girl!"

Kuroko purposefully took her time coming home.

She purposefully volunteered to stay late at the office, bidding Uiharu a delicate farewell when the sun threatened to set. She purposefully meandered around the corner store on her way home. Following Misaka's orders, she was sent there to fetch snacks, but, for her own reasons, she acted as though she didn't know what Misaka liked to eat. For a while, she even pretended to forget her own preferences.

Of course, it was all an attempt to buy time.

If there was time available, she bought it, even if it starved her wallet and savings. She bought all the time she could until bankruptcy arrived to inhibit her from buying more. Its arrival made her ripe for a scowl. One spread across her face when a distant clock chimed twenty-one hundred. Curfew.

It was time to truly head home now... no matter how badly she wished to flee elsewhere.

As expected from routine, Kuroko found Misaka at her desk, scribbling away at homework. The door slammed shut behind the junior as if her presence had not already been made known. Misaka, having heard the arrival of her roommate, peeked over her shoulder and smiled.

"Hey, Kuroko. Did you get the snacks by any chance? I know work probably kept you late, so it's alright if you didn't get the time."

Kuroko approached her with a steep frown, the plastic bag rustling when she reached inside. From it, she withdrew a variety of bags and boxes, all colorful, promising to hold a sweet or tasty treat. They were each placed on Misaka's desk, designated to rest beside her sheets of homework.

"How much do I owe you?" asked Misaka after giving a word of thanks. She rose from her chair as if prepared to fetch her coin purse from the other side of the room. Eerily, however, Kuroko said nothing. It was what inspired the other to slowly seat herself again as she watched her hand dive into her skirt.

She withdrew something clenched in her tightened fist... so tightened, in fact, her knuckles suffered from whiteness. That same fist whammed against the surface of Misaka's desk without warning. It made sure to emphasize its importance; it landed in the middle of Misaka's work as if to demand her attention.

Mildly alarmed, Misaka slowly peered up to her junior, who gazed back grimly. Not much time was needed for her to figure out that Kuroko held something in her fist, and she fortified herself in preparation for the release of a frog or a lizard or a spider... something that would surely induce a reaction.

Induce a reaction it did.

Kuroko lifted her hand.

On the paper now rested a Gekota keychain.

It had been kissed by flames, and parts of its skin was caked in gray ash.

Misaka's face remained baffled for an unprecedented amount of time, but that was before she reached over and cheerfully retrieved her lost trinket.

"Aw, you found my old Gekota keychain? You really are the best, Kuroko. It's like you can track down anything!"

Kuroko paid her little mind, as she occupied herself with throwing her briefcase onto the bed so she could fish out her digital tablet.

"I dug that out of the wreckage today," she murmured before fiddling with the tablet.

It was a while before she carelessly tossed the device onto Misaka's desk as well. The senior's attention fled from the keychain and onto the screen, but she did not appear to take well to what was presented: a photograph of fresh rubble. "That was once the 'Consumer First' bank headquarters on the one-hundredth block. It was destroyed by an electrical fire around eleven o'clock last night." Misaka's eyes eventually wandered to the prejudice gaze of her roommate.

The Kuroko she spoke to at the moment was a Kuroko she saw rarely: a Kuroko hardened by professionalism, swayed by no emotion.

"U-Uh-huh..." Misaka started poorly, so she paused to recollect herself. "Wait... I thought this wasn't supposed to be public information."

"Just tell me what you were doing last night."

"Psh. I don't have to tell you. You're starting to sound like my possessive boyfriend or something. Look, I know I've given you some leeway with me lately, but that doesn't entitle you to all my business."

Her words were the cue for a second item to debut: Kuroko's verdant Judgment sash, which she retrieved from her pocket as well. Distaste plastered itself across her face as she roughly pinned it to the sleeve of her uniform. As Misaka watched, she grew visibly uneasy.

"I don't think you understand the weight of the situation," Kuroko sighed, straightening the ornament to where the emblem showed its proud face. "I didn't ask as a friend."

The officer's hand spread across the surface of Misaka's desk as she leaned closer. The suspect, though, remained stagnant, refusing to withdraw from her interrogator. They simply engaged in a staring match until one inevitably gave in: Kuroko, who shut her eyes and heaved.

"Pleading the Fifth, I see," she grumbled in defeat.

"Well within my right."

Dreariness, void of light, welled in the officer's eyes as they sunk to the floor. Quivering fingers reached up to the safety pin securing her sash, but they had neither the strength nor focus to fondle with it for long. As though it'd been robbed of its bones, her hand simply slumped back down, dangling at her side somberly.

Misaka knew precisely how to interpret the girl's lethargy.

But the lethargy did not last long. A prelude to anger was its only purpose.

Lethargy's offspring frightened the Electromaster.

Surely, she thought, the wrath of her just roommate was soon to be directed at her. When Kuroko was angry with her... legitimately angry with her... something was terribly amiss.

The anger was not toward her, though.

The anger snatched the charred Gekota resting atop sheets of school work. Anger clenched the trinket tightly in its clutches, shoulder blades raised like a grotesque, slobbering gargoyle... But anger disappeared when she opened her palm, studying the charm in its midst.

The somber air, who proved itself strongest, returned for good.

"I wish I'd never found this," she hissed, tone dripping with venom.

Misaka was brave to move so close to Kuroko in such a temperamental state. Or, perhaps, she was not brave at all; confident instead. She had no reason to believe Kuroko would snap at her, no matter how inappropriate her actions. As predicted, Kuroko remained motionless as her idol's delicate fingers reached into her hand to retrieve the subject of her ire.

One finger, her index, slipped into the loop sprouting from the character's head, and she studied its burn marks thoroughly. She was surprised to see Kuroko did not watch her.

"What will you do now?" asked the elder, refusing to watch her as well.

Back away.

That was what Kuroko decided to do.

Back away until she felt her bed, where she sat herself. Lifeless eyes remained on the floor the entire time, including the eternity that followed. One eternity later, Misaka decided to return to her schoolwork, silent as a mouse.

Only her pencil spoke for the next eternity, tapping and gliding across her papers. Not once did she peek over at the officer, nor had the snacks been touched since their delivery.

Math was done.

Onto Japanese.

Done.

English.

Done.

Science.

Done.

Never had homework felt so tiresome, so slow... and she'd most certainly had terrible homework nights before. At least, on those nights, she could consult her usual math tutor. But the math tutor uttered not a single word.

"Don't forget about the date we have with Uiharu and Saten tomorrow," Misaka reminded her out of the blue. "We're supposed to meet at the bus station at noon. Feels like forever since we've had a chance to hang out."

Though, they already knew neither Uiharu nor Saten could alleviate the tension between them. Misaka seemed to take solace in the idea of visiting their friends, but it was unclear why.

They couldn't help.

The details had no place mingling with them, and they had no place mingling with the details. The details belonged solely to them; the matter was between Misaka and Kuroko... and yet they refused to act as though they shared anything in common.

They slept alone in their beds.

The other was only across the room, barely a couple of meters away, but they felt so horribly alone. Cold, inky darkness enveloped the both of them, paralyzing them into motionlessness. It was a though a force kept one from speaking to the other, regardless of their word's contents.

The next day came, but it was not enough to wash away the indelible.

A perceptive pair, Uiharu and Saten picked up on the tension straight away. Kuroko was noticeably calmer than normal. She was always north, Misaka was always south; every chance she could, Kuroko clung to her. One of them, however, seemed to have flipped.

"Misaka! Shirai! Yoo-hoo! Over here!" Saten singsonged to the distant pair once catching eye of them. She swung an arm around excitedly. It was half-expected for her to recieve a jab from Uiharu's elbow, so it was a mystery why she was still surprised when she did.

"They can see us, you goofball," Uiharu snickered while stepping out of the way of a fellow pedestrian.

"Can't help it! I'm excited!" Saten cheered as Misaka trotted toward them. Kuroko followed further behind. "Alright! The gang's back together! What's the game plan for today? Shop? Eat? Movies? Park? All of the above?"

Misaka had to take a moment to collect the breath the sprint had stolen from her.

"Me? I'm down for anything," she chirped.

"Well, if that's the case..." Uiharu timidly spoke up, fingers fiddling with other fingers. "I'll admit that I might take advantage of our little meetup... It's time to get a new fridge for the apartment, so I figured I'd wait until I had someone around to help me move it." Predictively, her eyes wandered to Kuroko, who gazed back before long. "If Shirai's okay with me using her, of course. I doubt it'd take us too long, but uh... Oh..." It was the first time she'd actually studied the girl since her arrival. The sight put her at a loss for words.

Deep purple consumed the patches beneath her eyes, which sagged with exhaustion. Caramel irises cowered in the presence of a red invasion, and her eyelids seemed lofty. The sight gave Uiharu and Saten a valid license for concern, so they studied her closely.

"Wowzers, Shirai, you look like you've been to Hell and back today," Saten commented lightly before smiling devilishly. "Or did you forget to put your make-up on? Wait, do you normally wear make-up? I never paid much attention."

Like a champ, Kuroko brushed their concern aside and shook her head. From the dead she conjured a smile, which she presented against her better judgment.

"Mm... I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, so I probably don't look that great." She glanced at Uiharu, whose face had grown distastefully worried. Kuroko attempted to ward it away with a smile. "I'm happy to help, Uiharu, but I might not be at the top of my game."

Uiharu's brows sank, and a motherly scowl followed.

"Did you seriously stay up all night working on all that new stuff? On a Friday? Geez, sometimes I can't stand you workaholics."

"I dunno, Uiharu. Shirai could've been up all night staring at you-know-who..." Saten's eyebrows performed a suggestive dance.

"She'll get a good smack if that's the case." Misaka's palm found itself on Kuroko's crown, and she roughly shook the girl's head about. She left Kuroko in a daze once she was finished.

Misaka played along with it.

So, they were playing along with everything...

Very well.

Kuroko never wanted to put on a dull, lifeless act. It was a superficial thing to do, and, at her core, she was not a superficial person. But, for the sake of preserving the privacy of their matters... she'd do as Misaka did.

"You know, I never figured refrigerator shopping would be fun, but look at us now!" Saten would say a while later. The quartet had wandered around the appliance store for ages, leisurely making frequent stops to gawk at things they didn't need (nor want to buy). It was after they were done touring up and down the dishwasher display they stumbled upon a city of refrigerators, all crisp and new.

Finally, they could start paying attention to what was for sale, especially the price tags. Being a student that lived alone, Uiharu understandably had a budget worth humoring. The other three scouted for fridges that suited her price range.

Saten was the most successful at finding potential suitors, but they always ended up being declined, be it for size, cosmetic, or age issues. While she did not find as many as Saten, Misaka found better quality fridges, still minding Uiharu's requirements.

Kuroko...stirred up trouble. Out of the blue, she appeared out of nowhere next to Uiharu. Following her was a large, bulky fridge, whose hull she gave a few hefty pats.

"How about this one?" asked the new arrival, but Uiharu did not answer.

"Um... Shirai, you probably shouldn't be moving those around."

As if Uiharu could predict the future, an angered employee furrowed his brows and barked from the counter.

"Teleporter! Quit moving the appliances!"

"Relax, relax!" Kuroko barked back. Eyes narrowed, she turned to Uiharu again, placed her palm against the appliance's side, and sighed. "Excuse me." She and the fridge disappeared shortly afterward.

Eventually, the group exhausted the store's supply, which was generous. Uiharu, thankfully, had picked out a few she was interested in, and she planned to do more sifting in order to slim her selection even more. All that needed to be done was left solely to her, which gave the other three, liberated from any responsibilities, the permission to kick back and relax again. Saten was the one to bring up another proposal.

"Hey, Misaka. Shirai. What do you say to checking out the wallpaper while Uiharu's making up her mind?" inquired the girl. Misaka nodded in approval almost immediately.

"Sounds like a good way to kill time," she agreed. Her eyes, as expected, wandered to Kuroko shortly afterward. It was the first time the two actually looked at one another since they visited the appliance store, and it showed. "Feel like coming, Kuroko?

Her eyes simply darted away.

"Nah. I don't wanna leave Uiharu by herself."

While Misaka's expression remained undaunted, Saten's eyes widened. When they seemed as though they were the widest they could get, they only widened more. Even Uiharu turned her head slightly to glance at the girl, who was not glad to find herself at the center of attention.

"Alright then," Misaka muttered casually. She nudged Saten's shoulder with a finger as a way to beckon her away. "We'll be wherever the wallpaper's at if you need us." She and Saten then walked away from the city of refrigerators, bound to venture deeper into the store.

Kuroko and Uiharu remained silent until the other pair disappeared behind another aisle.

It was as though the question had been pressing against Uiharu's teeth all day; as though it were a itch begging to be scratched. The soonest she could, she humored her impatience.

"Alright," she said. Though she was in a hurry to ask, she had to leash herself to properly word everything. "Is there something we need to talk about, Shirai? You'd leave me in a heartbeat if it meant you got to follow Misaka around. The tension between you two today isn't natural."

"Figured you'd pick up on it," Kuroko responded tiredly. "Then again, it's not like I'm trying to hide it..."

"Did the two of you have a fight recently?"

Eyes half-lidded, Kuroko's fingers began to anxiously fondle with the hem of her uniform's vest. She started to tug at a loose string, but she halted the vice the second she noticed.

"Something like that." A sigh escaped her mouth. "And I don't think it's something I should talk about... yet."

"Hm. Well..." Uiharu returned to the fridges, but her spirit remained with the conversation. "I guess it's only natural for two people to get mad at each other here and there, especially when they live together. Just remember I'm here to listen whenever you're ready to talk."

Kuroko may never talk about it, though.

Kuroko and Uiharu, in a way similar to how she and Misaka did the night before, left the subject to rot.

As planned, the four agreed on a place to meet when Kuroko and Uiharu were done delivering and setting up the newly-purchased fridge. Misaka and Saten patiently awaited their return, occupying themselves at the arcade in Seventh Mist in the meantime.

The other two unexpectedly ran into a few complications while settling the new appliance in its home, which delayed their return to the mall. They bid their apologies to Misaka and Saten, who'd been waiting around for seemingly ages after wasting all their arcade tokens (Misaka did not spend all of hers, as she was in need of some extra Railgun ammunition). With the group reunited, they could finally get to the fun stuff... The things normal friends did, such as poking around clothing stores in search of new outfits or goofy get-ups to make fun of.

However... Kuroko's mood was noticeably damp, and it most certainly had an effect on those around her. Tired eyes did not hide a certain darkness, a malevolent, cloudy storm of worry and sorrow. One particular thing would not leave her mind, and it resisted her attempts to push it away. She grew angry at the emotion. It was what prevented her from enjoying her time with the most important people in her life...

Especially that girl over there. The one patting Saten on the back in approval of a hat she was trying on. The one with the auburn hair, clad in a Tokiwadai uniform just like her. She was smiling. It was not a fake smile. It was the genuine, innocent smile of the one she loved more than anything. She would be the one to know which of her smiles were real and which of her smiles were fake. The peace on her face was unmistakable, even in light of such dirty, dirty things.

That girl. Mikoto Misaka...

Was a terrorist.

No.

Kuroko refused to believe that. She knew Misaka top and down. Inside and out. Around and in-between. Her Misaka, her love, was not the Humaniterrorist. Not the Misaka she knew. The Misaka she knew had a strong sense of justice. Granted, she was not quite as lawfully sound as Kuroko herself, but her morals were never ambiguous. She chased down bad guys as a sport, and she took it upon herself to help those in need. She was a light that could not be corrupted, not even by her own power, fame, and glory.

Misaka wasn't the one. There was simply no way.

And if... somehow... she _were_ the one... she still wouldn't be.

It was time to get back to work, otherwise the insanity would surely devour her from the inside out. Get back to work Kuroko did; with a quick word given to her pack, Kuroko took her leave from the jungle of clothes racks and ventured to the center of the store. Her trademark sash found itself pinned to her sleeve once more as she approached the front counter.

A man worked there. He seemed inconspicuous enough, save for the fact that his age was uncommon for an employee. Regardless, he seemed friendly enough, as he politely greeted her approach.

"Hello, officer. I saw you having fun with your friends over there. Is it time to go to work?"

"I guess that's one way to put it," Kuroko responded, eyes hardening for business. Upon the counter one of her elbows found a home, and she then began digging for the cellphone in her pocket. "I've been assigned to work on a big case, so it's something I need to juggle with everything else in my life." Her phone was prepared to take notes.

"Well, don't work yourself too hard, missy, otherwise you'll end up with wrinkles like me!" The man then laughed at himself.

"Right..." Kuroko did not appear to be in a joking mood. "I was wondering if you knew anything about the fire on the one-hundredth block."

"You mean the bank that burned down?"

"That's the one."

"Oh, it's just terrible. To think a place like Academy City would be the target of such destruction! I can only pray nobody was seriously hurt when that place came crumbling down... Feels like the world is getting more and more dangerous these days. If this great city isn't a safe haven, what is?"

Kuroko could conclude he knew nothing based off the way he spoke. His reaction, as far as she could tell, was standard; not the sort of reaction to be expected of someone who was aware of more intimate details than the average citizen. Her energy was best exhausted elsewhere.

None of her friends took well to the sight of her Judgment sash, now proudly displaying its emblem on her arm. Their faces dropped when she returned to them just as drained as before.

"Aw, did you get called back to work?" Saten groaned while leaning against a rack. "And we've been planning this for such a long time..."

"Not really. I just figured I'd take care of a few things while I was out."

To her surprise, Misaka gave her a warm smile. Another genuine smile. Kuroko normally loved the sight of those, but that one made her sick to the stomach.

"Just try not to let it keep you from having fun with us, okay?" she required. Albeit quietly, Kuroko agreed to comply.

The smile haunted her, and it continued to haunt her as they abandoned the store empty handed. Kuroko walked with her eyes to the ground, though they should've been fixed up. With her sash equipped, she communicated she was on duty. She was expected to be perked and alert, and she was not to disappoint such expectations...

Especially if those expectations would help her. When she finally looked up, she caught eye of a man. Not just any man, but an employee of the mall, who was hunkered down on his knees before a kiosk. An electrician, it seemed, for he'd pried off the panel from the kiosk's surface to expose its innards. Thin strings of electricity flowed from the tips of the man's fingers as he attempted to put life back into the stand.

Another Electromaster.

The ideal person to speak with.

Kuroko departed from her herd again after telling Uiharu what she wanted from the vendor they were headed toward. Not a moment passed before she'd teleported her way over a crowd of people, landing at the electrician's side. Her presence was noticed almost immediately, for the man's head turned toward her with a scowl.

"Can't you see I'm busy?"

"That makes two of us." Again, Kuroko dug a phone out of her pocket and activated it in preparation to take notes. "I need to ask you a few questions."

"Hmph. You're from Judgement, right? Come to ask me about all the sabotage that's been going on around the city?" the man inquired. He was awfully perceptive, or simply familiar with the question she was prepared to ask.

"Um... Yes, actually," Kuroko responded. She was baffled for a moment, wondering if the man actually had a type of Clairvoyance ability instead of electric (despite having just watched him produce electricity from his bare hands), but Tachibana's previous statements came to mind: Anti-Skill had already interviewed a good bulk of Academy City's Electromasters about the case, and the electrician was undoubtedly one of those Electromasters.

"Anti-Skill's already asked me a shitload of questions, and it's annoying as hell. I don't have anything to do with those explosions and I don't know a thing. Carry on with your work, ma'am, you're wasting your time with me." He turned back to the kiosk as if to imply his refusal to converse any further, but Kuroko pursued him. It was one of the things she was good at after all.

"May I take a look at your license, sir?" she inquired calmly, but her response was not nearly as calm.

"What the hell do you need it for?" he growled while itching his thick mustache. Static danced inside it in the meantime.

"It's just so I can log you into the database. You must've been missed," she answered gracefully, though the man's grouchiness was certainly peeving. "Once I'm done with that, you can be sure you'll not be bothered again about this investigation."

To her chagrin, he began muttering indecipherable jargon. Luckily, he did so while sitting straight up to bury a thick, calloused hand into his dingy pants pocket. From it, he retrieved a worn wallet, from which he dug out an identification card. He showed it to her, but he retracted when she reached out in attempt to take it.

"You don't need to hold it, ma'am. My name's right there," he growled.

"I'm farsighted." She snatched it anyway and immediately began studying the name. Afterward, she pretended to punch it into her cellphone.

"You mean _nearsighted_."

"Sure. Whatever."

"You might want to consider getting some glasses, _young lady._ "

Ignoring him was the best option after that. She'd gotten what she wanted, so there was no need to stir up any more of a fuss. Once finished acting as though she'd recorded all its information, Kuroko crisply handed the card back to the man, who snatched it.

"I appreciate your cooperation," she muttered lifelessly as the man roughly shoved his identification into his wallet. It was important to note that he put the wallet in his right back pocket. "I hope you have a nice day."

"Hmph. Whatever. I need to get back to work."

A pair of caramel, but bleak, eyes maintained a watch over the man, who obliviously continued his repairs on the kiosk. Her watch, her hesitation, continued as she returned to her circle (or _square_ , since there were four of them) and took a seat at the table they'd claimed.

"Give the guy a thorough interrogation?" Misaka inquired upon her return, sliding a quaint slice of key lime pie over to the girl. She had been so distracted by her watch over the man that she failed to notice the sliding pie until it was too late; the plate fell off the edge, but her sharp reflexes allowed her to rescue it with minimal damage.

"Didn't take long if she did," Uiharu commented with a giggle. She pat her coworker's shoulder playfully. "Nice catch, by the way."

"Turns out he's already been asked. Anti-Skill forgot to take him off the list."

But the man's information or knowledge was not what was important, however. What was important was that card. The identification card. It was approximately thirty or so meters away, snugly tucked away in his wallet's third sleeve. That wallet rested in the man's right pocket, hiding the card away so that none would see it...

Until the card, unbeknownst to any, including its owner, departed from the wallet like a phantom. In Kuroko's hand it now rested, and it dove into a safe place before it could be spotted by her peers.

That blasted card... She spent time staring at it. Too much time. With Misaka in the bath, she had the comfort to place it freely on her desk, where it rested before her laptop. A text file, the report on the charred remains of a bank, was open on the monitor, begging for Kuroko to pull her attention from the card...

But she couldn't. She couldn't find the strength to.

What if Anti-Skill found out about what she planned to do? If they found out who had done everything? She would be booted from Judgment and stripped of whatever honor the organization had given her. Even worse, she'd spend time, perhaps the rest of her younger years, behind bars. She'd hardly ever get to see Misaka again, assuming she would come to see her at all. Perhaps she would pay a visit or two... After all, it was for _her_ sake that she landed herself in prison in the first place.

The defeatist's attitude didn't suit Kuroko. She had to get herself out of that ugly valley. Most knew she made herself known for her determination, and determination would be what would keep her from undesirable outcomes. So long as she was thorough, articulate, and detailed, nothing could go wrong; she was more than familiar with how the system worked, and it could easily be manipulated to cater to her will.

Again, two harsh eyes studied the card resting on her desk. As it was at the moment, there was no way she could make her... _alternate facts_... believable. A few cosmetic alterations could provide an easy fix, though. All she had to do was hold it over one of the science department's Bunsen burners, waiting until tiny flames began consuming its edges. All would be well if she made sure to abort the flame before it ate too much of the owner's face and name.

It was the perfect plan, and it was nigh certain to work. Should it not work, it would at least throw the trail askew and cause great disruption to the investigation...

Except one thing was wrong: her.

That just bone in her body... It scowled at her with mortified disgust. It couldn't believe the things she'd done so far, the things she'd thought of doing...

Though it said nothing, it made its opinion more than clear, and there was no way Kuroko could avoid its scathing gaze. Unease welled in her core, and it made her queasy. At the worst time, it seemed, her eyes randomly landed on the man's face on the card. He didn't seem happy in the photograph, but he did not seem upset either. It was a... _human_ expression, and it haunted the onlooker.

Human.

Human.

She looked at the face of another human being. Nothing of his personal life was known to her, but it was not beyond reason to assume he had people he cared for. A sickly mother or father, perhaps. A motherless child, perhaps, or a grieving wife. Dreams and aspirations, those held since youth... perhaps he was working toward those. He might've been close to them, chilled by the breath of what he desired the most.

No.

No, no, no!

Emotion peaked, and her forehead found itself on her desk as well, resting atop the card. Arms spread across the surface, her fist began pounding angrily atop a pile of paperclipped work. The fit continued until she lost the energy and drive, leaving her to wallow in defeat.

She couldn't do it.


End file.
